


Panic

by AutisticWriter



Series: Mental Illness Headcanons [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Awkwardness, Bickering, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hogwarts Hospital Wing, Mental Health Issues, Multi, One Shot, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7591870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry eavesdrops as something very strange happens in the medical wing in the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Panic

Harry jerked awake when he heard the doors of the medical wing open, immediately getting hit by the pain in his healing arm. He pulled on his glasses and then lay as still as he could, squinting through half closed eyes, wanting to see what was going on. Through the gloom came two figures, both dressed in their nightclothes, one with their arm around the other as though they were taking most of their body weight. He could hear one of them breathing very fast, like they were hyperventilating.

As they stepped into the gloomy light flooding through the window, Harry could see them more clearly, and he suddenly realised who they were. It was Snape and Lockhart.

Snape, dressed in a long, black nightshirt, had his arm around Lockhart, whose night shirt was a horrible shade of lilac. His face was set in a tense, almost worried expression, and Harry could have sworn that he was rubbing Lockhart’s back.

And Lockhart . . . he looked dreadful. Slumped against Snape like he was about to collapse, his breaths were jagged and coming far too fast, his hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, and he was clutching at his chest like he was experiencing pain there. But what shocked Harry the most was that tears were dribbling down his cheeks. Lockhart was crying. Harry had never expected to see that.

“Come on, Gil,” Snape was saying, in a calm, compassionate voice that Harry had never heard before.

“’M sc-scared, Sev,” Lockhart gasped, his voice shaking.

“I know, but you’re all right. Just focus on that breathing, and I’ll go and get Poppy.”

Lockhart nodded, and Snape smiled. It was a truly strange sight.

Snape eased Lockhart onto one of the beds, which just happened to be the one opposite Harry, and hurried off towards the office, where Harry knew the door to Madam Pomfrey’s bed chamber was located.

Harry rolled onto his side to get a better look at Lockhart. He was hunched forwards like he was about to be sick, breathing so loudly that his gasps for breath echoed around the medical wing. Lockhart was holding his hands out in front of him, his fingers bent and stiff, looking like he couldn’t move them. Harry wondered if he was having some kind of panic attack.

“Not again, Gilderoy,” Madam Pomfrey said as she came out of the office in her nightdress, followed a few seconds later by Snape. She was holding a bottle in her hands. “I thought I told you to use your breathing exercises.”

Snape went and sat down beside Lockhart, and began to rub his back. Lockhart groaned and leaned the side of his head against Snape’s chin.

“I tr-tried,” Lockhart sobbed.

“Yes, he did,” Snape said, sounding slightly offended. “But I think today’s was worse. I just woke up about an hour ago, and Gilderoy was awake beside me and hyperventilating. We tried the breathing exercises, but nothing has worked. He was getting dangerously close to fainting, so I thought I should bring him to you.”

“He’s been having a panic attack for over an hour?” Madam Pomfrey said, sounding horrified.

But Harry was more interested in what Snape had said: _awake beside me._ Did that mean they slept in the same bed?

“I’m afraid so,” Snape said, and Lockhart whimpered.

“Right then, Gilderoy,” she said, taking out her wand and conjuring a glass, before pouring some of the liquid from the bottle into it, “I need you to take this.”

Snape took the glass and held it up to Lockhart’s mouth, seeming to realise that Lockhart appeared unable to hold the glass himself. Between his shuddering sobs, he managed to drink the whole thing. Harry was finding this hard to watch; Lockhart looked dreadful, and it was disturbing to see Snape looking nervous.

Carefully, like he was scared of damaging him, Snape helped Lockhart to lay back on the bed, for a moment clearly exposing Lockhart’s bright pink boxer shorts; Harry suppressed a giggle. Snape then lay down beside him, and Lockhart snuggled his shoulder into his armpit, leaning his head against Snape’s chest.

Slowly, over the course of a few minutes, Lockhart’s breathing slowed. He visibly relaxed, flopping back against the bed, even though he was still crying. He looked exhausted.

“Th-thank you, Poppy,” he said breathlessly.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Snape glanced over at Harry, who made sure he was still, and hoped Snape would think he’s asleep. Madam Pomfrey looked too.

“I think he’s asleep, Severus, don’t worry,” she said, but Harry was sure she could tell he wasn’t actually asleep.

Harry watched Snape stroke Lockhart’s sweaty hair as Lockhart continued to gasp for breath; it was clear his panic attack was going to go on for quite a while yet. He kept whimpering, and Snape kept whispering things that Harry couldn’t hear. It was quite distressing to watch, and, finally, Harry tried to fall back asleep.

Despite the pain in his arm, Harry eventually fell asleep with his eyes on the men cuddled up opposite him, and his glasses digging into his face.

\---

When Harry woke up in the morning, they were still there, fast asleep, cuddled up together, with Lockhart’s head resting on Snape’s shoulder. And, despite how much he hated the pair of them, he had to admit that they looked sort of sweet like that. He just couldn’t quite believe it. Did this mean they were a couple? But he thought Snape hated Lockhart. None of this made sense.

Madam Pomfrey must have seen he was awake, because she was suddenly walking towards him, smiling.

“Good morning, Mr Potter.”

Snape seemed to wake up when he heard Harry’s name; Harry saw him sit up and his eyes widened slightly as though fighting back panic. Harry tried to ignore him, and looked up into Madam Pomfrey’s face.

“Morning,” he yawned, rubbing at his eyes.

She smiled. “Let’s have a look at that arm.”

Harry looked down at his arm, and was amazed to find that he could flex his fingers.

“Excellent,” Madam Pomfrey said, and she was clearly about to say something else when Snape cut her off.

“Were you awake last night, Potter?” Snape said, easing himself out of the bed without waking Lockhart.

Harry nodded, not liking where this was going. “Yes, sir.”

“Did you see everything?”

He nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

Snape looked somewhere between angry and embarrassed.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Severus, can this wait? I need to check if Potter’s arm has healed properly.”

“But—”

“Sir, I won’t tell anyone what I saw,” Harry said. “It was private.”

Snape didn’t look like he believed him, but Harry truly was sincere. As much as he detested Snape, he knew it was wrong to out people without their consent.

Only a few seconds later, Lockhart woke up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, his hair still stuck to his head with dry sweat. He looked exhausted, like he had hardly slept at all. Madam Pomfrey left Harry’s side, and went over to him, smiling warmly.

“And how are you, Gilderoy?” She said.

Lockhart smiled weakly. “Much better, thank you.”

Lockhart scanned the room, and Harry saw his eyes widen when he focused on Harry. “H-Hello, Harry. I didn’t know you were in here.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, but Madam Pomfrey got a scathing remark in before he did.

“Gilderoy, you were the one who removed all of his bones!”

“Ah,” Lockhart chuckled weakly, his face going red, “of course. Sorry about that. Uh, Harry, d-did you, uh, hear me in the night?”

Harry nodded. Lockhart gulped. He reached out for Snape’s hand, but Snape tucked his hand behind his back and took a step away. The rejected look on Lockhart’s face made Harry feel almost sorry for him.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Lockhart said, avoiding eye contact, instead glancing up at Snape. “In case you were wondering, Harry, I had—”

“He doesn’t need to know, Gilderoy,” Snape said irritably, glaring at Harry.

“No, no, I think I should explain.”

“You don’t have to, sir,” Harry said awkwardly, just wanting to leave.

“No, I want to explain.”

“For goodness’ sake, Gilderoy,” Snape sighed.

“Don’t sigh at me like that, Severus!”

“Honestly, you two, stop making a fuss,” Madam Pomfrey snapped, removing the sling from Harry’s arm as she spoke. “Look, Potter, Professor Lockhart gets panic attacks, and had to come to me for a calming draught. That’s all there is to it.”

Snape opened his mouth to say something, but the glare she was giving him made him close his mouth again without speaking. Harry looked at Lockhart, who was staring determinedly on the foot of his own bed.

“My friend Neville gets panic attacks,” Harry said, not sure why he was saying it. “Maybe you’d like to talk to him, if you don’t know anyone else who gets them too.”

“Potter, I don’t think Gilderoy would want to talk to Longbottom,” Snape said, and Harry scowled.

“No, no, I think Harry’s got a point,” Lockhart said, and Snape raised his eyebrows. “He gets panic attacks, does he?”

“Yeah, he comes here a lot for calming draughts too, doesn’t he, Madam Pomfrey?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mr Longbottom has one of the most severe cases of a panic disorder I have ever seen. Of course, this is all confidential, you do know that, you three?”

They all nodded, Snape looking irritated.

“Well, I think I might take up your offer, Harry.” Lockhart smiled.

“Gilderoy . . .” Snape said warningly.

“Stop being a grump, Sev,” Lockhart said.

“I am not being ‘a grump’, Gilderoy,” Snape hissed.

Harry had to bite the insides of his cheeks to stop himself laughing at the look on Snape’s face.

“Will you two stop bickering?” Madam Pomfrey said, exasperated.

“We are not bickering!” Snape snapped.

“Yes you are,” she said. “You always do. You’re just as bad as Albus and Horace.”

Harry’s eyes widened at her words. Did she mean Dumbledore? And did she mean that Dumbledore was gay? Horace was definitely a man’s name, so . . .

Madam Pomfrey seemed to remember that Harry was in the room. Turning away from Snape, who looked like he was desperate to argue back, she sat back down on the edge of Harry’s bed and examined his arm, which now looked to be back to normal.

“How does it feel, Potter?”

Avoiding looking at Snape and Lockhart, Harry smiled. “Much better, thanks.”

It was much easier to pretend that they weren’t there, although he knew he wouldn’t be forgetting about what he had seen so easily.

\---

Now he knew Snape and Lockhart were a couple, Harry started thinking about all of their interactions, and how they suddenly made sense. And he also noticed that, since Lockhart’s panic attack in the night, Snape was being a lot nicer to him in public. Rather than blanking him and making cruel remarks behind his back, Snape was now constantly checking up on Lockhart, and his voice was unnaturally soft whenever they spoke. At one point, Snape poked his head into their DADA classroom in the middle of a lesson, just to ask Lockhart how he was doing.

“I’m fine, Severus,” Lockhart said, pretending to look bemused, but actually looking grateful for the visit. He grinned at Snape, who gave him the smallest smile in return, before leaving the room again.

Everyone looked incredibly confused. And Harry was the only one who understood what was going on.

“What’s wrong with Snape?” Ron whispered to Harry in their Potions lesson, as an exhausted looking Snape yawned and nearly tripped over Malfoy’s bag.

“How do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Well, he looks knackered, and why’s he suddenly being so nice to Lockhart?”

There must have been an expression on his face, because Hermione and Ron were suddenly asking Harry what he knew.

After getting reassured that they wouldn’t tell anyone, Harry told them everything he had seen in the night. Ron’s jaw actually dropped.

“No way! How can they be going out? Snape hates Lockhart.” Ron said, keeping his voice low and his eyes on Snape.

“Well, you should’ve seen him last night,” Harry said, remembering how kind and compassionate Snape had been when Lockhart had been panicking.

“And you say Professor Lockhart was having a panic attack?” Hermione said.

“Yeah, he was completely hysterical,” Harry said, shuddering at the memory. “It was horrible to watch. Madam Pomfrey had to give him a calming draught, and, even then, it still took him ages to calm down.”

“The poor thing,” Hermione said, and Ron raised his eyebrows. “I had no idea he had a panic disorder.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s exactly something he’d want to tell anyone about,” Ron said, and Hermione glared at him.

“I told him about Neville, so they might get someone to talk to about having panic attacks,” Harry said quickly.

“Good idea,” Hermione smiled. “That might help them both a lot.”

Harry looked over at Snape again, still wondering how he could be going out with someone who irritated him so much.


End file.
